What Not to Do (Kallisti)

[Jaxen Marveet]

The pop and flash of lights angled elsewhere. In the void of the stolen attention, Jaxen darkened. It was a brief expression, replaced with the study of one seeking cracks in the gilded façade in front of him. Aiden’s man had to all but hold the paparazzi off of him. Aiden pretended intolerance, but really the singer would shoot up the adoration if he could shove the high into a syringe. Sage was looking suitably blank, hooked on Aiden’s elbow. Inevitably the pair had to stop so Aiden could address the peppering questions. Jaxen watched blandly, arms folded beneath the plume of fur. Eventually, the trio of men pushed through. Landing right in front of the one waiting for them.

“A handsome devil, yes?” he smirked in response. Aiden may be the rock star, but Jaxen had a face that promised devilry.
“Where’s your spear?” he asked, rhetorically quizzical, though he had to raise his voice to breech the deafening avalanche of questions. Given the Irish prize’s twin was no where about Jaxen’s person either, he expected Aiden to squirrel the enormous spear away from the public eye. He was right to be careful. If someone knew about it, they may be tempted to steal it. The compliment incited a flourish parting of the fur as he approached - innocently sharing he had nothing similar to hide. The glimpse of a lithe waist and hip-hugging pants did draw some attention. A taste of more to come, perhaps? Perhaps.

The power went out then. Drenching the street with a domino crescendo of darkness. He turned to regard it. Gasps rose up amid a flurry of cursing from the paparazzi. Wallet screens suddenly came aglow, but their cast did not part the sea of red drenching faces gloriously bloody. No swarm of senses hinted that the sudden reprieve was Aiden’s doing, but not to worry, Jaxen was there. A wicked smile parted his lips. The ancient power swirled. If anyone was unafraid of showing what they were in front of a crowd, it was Jaxen Marveet.

An orb of green-blue flame spun over the top of his head. Given that it was the only thing glowing its own accord, the wavy life flickered hellish lines down his face. Canceling the red. Dousing that devilish face with other-worldly streaks. Devil had been Aiden’s word, after all. He felt every pair of eyes suddenly focus on him. But what he would do with the attention?

The power then snaked around his mouth so everyone could hear.
“Who is the young man with you tonight? Is this your old lover?” he called and fixed Sage's far-away gaze with the accusation of one recently scorned.

Now, Jaxen was a hetero bloke. He wasn’t particularly aroused by other men despite his appreciation for the rare piece of art some of them were. Mostly, he found such specimens inspiring. So what sped the sweep of his feet and planted a hungry gleam to his eye, however, was not the thrill of screwing one. It was the thrill of screwing with what someone loved most. And Aiden loved his self-important, pompous celebrity status more than anything in the world. And every shrine needed a sacrificial lamb now and then.  

So when Jaxen danced around the body-guard with sudden purpose of reuniting with old friends, brushed the palm from the musician’s hand and thrust his tongue into the singer’s famous mouth, it wasn’t with the gusto of enflamed desire for the celebrity’s svelte cut body. It was purely to piss him off. But what a show he put on to do it. And there was a moment, a heartbeat perhaps, that he thought Aiden liked it. The exaltation of a worshipper throwing themselves upon his altar was hard to ignore. Maybe even kissed him back? Maybe. Jaxen was a handsome devil, after all.

He didn’t even check to see if Sage noticed.

And the Paparazzi lost their motherfucking minds.


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[[Aiden moded with permission. *bows and flourishes]]